Adios, Chica
by KatieCharlotte
Summary: Not every goodbye is easy.


_Authors note: another new entry into a completely different universe. And fdalwdbhgdyatlsjs, it's another pairing story! Apologies in advance fellow readers 3 Carlos and Jill, an underrated, under-represented pairing in the Resident Evil world... not that such a universe is really all that pairing friendly! The events of this one shot occur immediately after the events of Resident Evil 3: Nemesis, and act as my way of explaining the disappearance of the beautiful Carlos Oliveira._

_As a warning, there is some explicit language in this piece._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_No one said anything for a long time after the bomb went off. _

Jill Valentine didn't know what to think, what to feel; everything was so confused. The intense feeling of relief she'd experienced as she'd scrambled onto the helicopter, knowing that she was safe, had rapidly evolved into an unrelenting guilt as she thought of all the lives she hadn't saved. Her duty had been to protect the people of Raccoon City, and instead, she'd left them behind to burn. She watched the missile, saw the flash, heard the blast, felt the shock… imagined the screams of hundreds of thousands of innocent victims as they disintegrated, turned to ash.

She'd tried to tell herself that there was nothing she could have done. The entire situation had been completely out of her hands. They couldn't be saved.

But it was easy, thinking such things, whilst you were in the thick of it. Surrounded by hellish creatures, animated corpses, the dead and the dying, survival becomes your absolute priority. Survival, man's basic instinct; you don't think, you act. You live or you die.

It's only afterwards, when you're safe, when the shame starts to play tricks on you. You become ashamed of your own survival, the fact that you're alive… and everybody else is dead.

The silence offered Jill a prolonged period of reflection. She ran through every second she could remember of the last 72 hours, imagined every scenario repeatedly, each with a different outcome. _If she'd only tried that, or done this, or gone there; maybe this wouldn't have happened_. The thoughts infested her mind, writhed inside of her, and she couldn't quite shake herself free.

"Yo, chica – you alright?"

The softly spoken words made Jill jump, and all of a sudden, the world around her came back into focus. A young man, with bronzed skin and deep, dark eyes, sat in front of her, his brow furrowed with concern.

Carlos Oliveira, despite everything from his past life, was not a man to become serious. He was the clown, the joker, the flirt, the one you could always rely on to make every bad situation that little bit more bearable. But even he had been finding it difficult to smile, to crack a joke.

And then he'd looked at her.

Jill's face was one of torment, of a weary soul fighting against an insatiable desire to blame herself for all the carnage that surrounded her. And when she'd looked up at him as he'd called out to her, her eyes had begged him to make it better. Carlos didn't know if he could do that, but he could try.

"Come on chica, or I'll start flirting again to try and lighten the mood…"

He smiled sweetly, his war-torn face softening beneath his auburn locks. It was strange to see such a man, bruised and battered and geared for war, with such an innocent face. Jill looked at him for a moment, before turning away to look at the rising sun, her expression never changed. The mercenary sighed and rubbed his neck, feeling the cold sting of failure.

"You'd be way out of your league, soldier. This lady's just too foxy."

Again, Jill turned to the mercenary, but this time, a slight smile brightening her weary face. Carlos's own smile widened at the sight, the woman was absolutely stunning, even when covered in blood and dirt. He'd been attracted to her from the moment they'd met, and knowing her had only strengthened his feelings for her. She had a stubborn determination to see things through to the bitter end, and a ruthless edge to her that made her a brilliant soldier, but her heart was always in the right place. Her compassion and her strength made her beautiful… and almost entirely unapproachable. The things Carlos felt for her, he would never reveal; Jill wasn't that type of woman, she didn't need nor want a man like him, of that he was absolutely certain.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He laughed, shrugging his shoulders in mock resignation.

Jill sat still for a moment, trying to understand the man before her… or rather, trying to understand how she _felt_ about the man before her. Because truth was, she didn't know what to feel about Carlos Oliveira. When she looked at him, there was always this strange sensation that would sweep over her; she became more self-aware, almost nervous, and dangerously close to blushing…

But that was stupid.

Jill put the feelings down to a strong sense of admiration and gratitude, without Carlos, she wouldn't have made it out of Raccoon city alive. She owed her life to him. Jill wasn't used to owing her life to anyone. Maybe that was it, maybe that was why she felt the way she did… because she didn't know how else to feel.

It was respect, nothing more.

All the same, when Carlos patted the seat beside him, to coax her to move closer, she didn't object. In fact, she moved willingly. The mercenary lifted his arm, so that she could bury herself close to his side, and then wrapped it round her; and still, Jill did not complain. It was nice to have the contact, the warmth of someone else close to her. It was the closest to security that she'd come in a long while, he made her feel safe. She liked that.

"We've got to find a way to end this,' she mumbled, her words slightly heavier as tiredness settled in, "we've got to find a way to destroy Umbrella."

"Don't worry, Jill, we will. I promise."

"We'll find a way, together.

"… yeah, together…"

Jill didn't say anything after that, though she wanted to. She wanted to tell Carlos… she wanted to tell him what it meant to her, having him there, beside her. Except, she didn't know what to say, or how to say it. She wanted to say thank you, for saving her life. But the words just wouldn't come. Instead, all she could do was close her eyes as she felt the exhaustion sweep over her; the darkness closed in, and eventually, Jill stopped resisting, and welcomed sleep…

The mercenary sat still, mulling over Jill's words as she slept against his chest, his heart sinking ever further as he held her.

"_Together."_

"She's going to kill you when she finds out," Barry pointed out to him, from the pilot seat. "She's going to absolutely murder you…"

"I know," he shouted back, "but _you_ know I'm right about this."

"That's not the point, she'll kill you all the same."

Yeah, Carlos was afraid of that. But there was nothing else he could do.

He looked down at the world passing below them, thinking of all the people living their average, inconsequential lives, oblivious to everything he'd seen these past few days. Things would never be the same for him, he'd never know what it was to have a normal life, now that he'd declared his own personal war. He knew what he had to do, there was just one problem.

_It meant saying goodbye._

* * *

It was a few minutes before Jill realised that the engines of the chopper had stopped. She was cold and alone, the warmth that Carlos had offered her had disappeared. Not far away, she could hear muffled words and the rustling of material, like somebody was packing in a hurry.

She felt a sudden chill travel down her spine. Something was not right.

Opening her eyes, she was momentarily blinded by the sunlight streaming through onto her face, but the glorious weather did nothing to brighten her mood. She sat up, stretched, grimacing as every muscle in her body ached under the strain of movement; but despite the pain, Jill forced herself to get up and to climb out of the helicopter. She had to stop whatever was happening without her knowledge.

Carlos and Barry were standing in the clearing not far away, their backs partially turned so that they did not notice the third member of their team moving towards them. They were deep in some kind of heated debate, the mercenary clearly dominating the conversation, both seemingly tense and agitated. Jill's heart sank even lower when she saw the rucksack hanging off one of Carlos's shoulders, but as the seconds passed, her sadness turned to annoyance as she realised she'd been left out of a crucial part of the escape plan.

She had assumed that they would all be making their way to Canada, where Barry had safely relocated himself and his family. She had assumed that their small team of three would declare war on Umbrella together, before making contact with Chris and the others. She had assumed that this was a fight that they would all share.

Carlos Oliveira clearly had different ideas.

"A wake-up call would have been nice."

Jill's icy tone brought the men's conversation to an abrupt end; both froze on the spot almost instantaneously. It took a while, but finally, they turned around to face her, their guilty expressions couldn't have been easier to read. It only made Jill angrier, it meant that they knew the implications of their actions, that Jill would not have approved… but they'd gone and done it anyway.

She half expected some casual, light-hearted remark from Carlos, but the mercenary remained silent, seemingly having lost all ability to speak. Instead, it was Barry who made the first move.

He walked until he reached her side and placed one hand on her shoulder, never lowering his gaze to meet hers. Instead, he closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll be waiting for you in the chopper, take your time." Then he paused for a moment, before finally daring to look her in the face, an apologetic smile forming. "Just try not to kill him, Jill."

Then he let her go, and returned to his seat in the cockpit, not once turning round to look back as he did so. Carlos was on his own, this was one fight that Barry was not about to get involved in. The wrath of a B.O.W. he could handle, but a scorned Jill Valentine was something different entirely.

"So this has been your plan all along, has it? Ditch me at the first opportunity? Why am I not surprised? I should've figured that a guy who finds the time to chat up a woman in the middle of a mass zombie rising would have very few scruples – I just didn't think that you'd be the kind of man to run out on the same girl twice."

Carlos's expression turned sour; dropping his pack on the floor, he moved closer to her. "It's nice to know what you think of me, but I can assure you, you couldn't be more wrong, chica."

"Stop calling me that," Jill too stepped forward, the pair getting ever closer to one another. "And what do you expect me to think, Carlos! You're _leaving_! You were just going to pack your things and get lost, weren't you? What did you _honestly_ expect me to think! Were you even going to _say_ anything, or was I supposed to just sleep right through, wake up in Canada and find that you'd fucked off!"

"Jill, please. Come on, it's not what you think…"

"_THEN WHAT IS IT! _Just _tell me_, for God's sake!"

A short pause. Carlos felt like he was about to be sick with nerves.

"I'm going back to Umbrella."

Jill Valentine almost choked on the tirade of abusive commentary she'd been preparing and stopped dead in her tracks. She must have misheard. Because of all the things she had been expecting him to say, _that_ had been the last thing imaginable.

"I'm sorry, for a second there I thought I heard you say that you're going back to Umbrella…"

"That's because I did, Jill. You know I did."

"Would you mind_ explaining _this to me?"

Carlos sighed, he'd known from the start that the former S.T.A.R.S. member would not like this plan; hell, it had taken ages to convince Barry that this was the right thing to do… but Jill was a completely different story. His allegiance with Umbrella had been a source of tension between them from the start, it had been an allegiance that he had quickly renounced on learning the truth of Raccoon City, but now he saw it for what it was: a crucial link to the information he and Jill so desperately craved.

"I'm going back to my apartment, it's about a day's trek from this location, and it's positioned on the outskirts of an Umbrella military facility. All of my peers, the ones that didn't join us on our mission, should still be there. As far as they're concerned, I'm the only survivor of the whole mess, the only surviving U.B.C.S. member with a whole lot of data that they'll be dying to get their hands on. They don't know I'm a turncoat, they don't know I've met you and they don't know you escaped with me – and they'll _never_ know. I can infiltrate their system, gain their trust, and find out everything you need to know to bring these fuckers down. It'll be a walk in the park in comparison to everything we've just lived through, and Umbrella won't ever suspect a thing."

As Carlos's speech ended, he prepared himself for a string of abuse, but found himself almost disappointed. Jill didn't say a word, her expression betrayed nothing. The mercenary began to get desperate, he needed her to say something, _anything_, just to know how she felt. He moved closer to her, hesitated, moved again; all the while, never looking away from her.

"Please Jill, you gotta understand, I _have_ to do this. I have this one window of opportunity to get as much info as possible. I should have told you, I know that; but I figured… I figured you wouldn't approve, I knew you'd say it was a bad idea."

His words did not fall on deaf ears, of course Jill didn't approve, of course he should have told her. But the thing was, at that moment in time, Jill Valentine was utterly confused. Carlos's logic was sound, this was the perfect opportunity that should be seized before it passed. It was foolproof. Carlos could get in and get out, and Umbrella would only realise when it was all too late. As a soldier, as a fighter, she approved of the plan.

But when it came down to it, the whole thing tore her apart. The idea of Carlos leaving her, of returning to a battle that was not his own, the thought that he was taking up _her_ responsibility and endangering _his_ life in the process… it was just too much. Any other man, she would have supported, but not Carlos… anyone but Carlos.

She had told herself that it was nothing but respect that she felt for him, but that was when she'd thought that they had all the time in the world. She had assumed that they would be a team, partners, until this whole cursed thing was over, perhaps even beyond that. And now he was leaving her.

It shouldn't have bothered her.

But it did.

"_What if it all goes wrong?"_

Her words were barely audible, but Carlos caught them all the same.

"It won't. And even if it did, remember chica: I'm just a hired gun, totally expendable."

That stung, more than Jill expected it to. Was that what Carlos thought of himself? Or was that what he thought Jill thought of him?

Tears threatened to fall, but she held them back; crying didn't do anybody any good, and Jill Valentine never cried, _ever_. And certainly not over some man.

Except that was the problem. Carlos Oliveira was not just 'some man', he was _everything_ to her. She hadn't thought much of him at first; a cocky flirt with too higher an opinion of himself, trying too hard to be the hero. But then she'd gotten to know him, and she'd seen quite a different man. He was vulnerable, caring, and devoted to those in need. He had laughed, joked, flirted, all at inappropriate and inopportune moments… but he had been the light at the end of her tunnel. He'd kept Jill fighting.

He'd tried to be a hero, not for the sake of being a hero, but for the desire to _save_. And through that, he had become one, _Jill's hero_. She owed her life to him, it was a debt she could never repay. And she would never have the chance to try. Because the hardest thing about being a hero, is that you can never stop.

It was a cruel twist of fate that the thing that had brought them together, would be the reason that they would have to be apart. Their paths had crossed, for a fleeting moment, and perhaps would never cross again. That was the price they both had to pay, and both knew that all too well.

Jill hadn't meant to fall in love, that wasn't her style. But she had, and that was the end of it. And if this was her one and only chance to tell Carlos that, then she had to take it and be done with it.

"_You're not just some hired gun, and you're not expendable – not to me."_

That was all Carlos needed to hear. He covered the remaining distance between them with two large strides and in one sweeping motion, wrapped his strong arms around her frame. Jill did not stop him. She pressed her hands against his chest, felt his frantic heart beat and buried her face into his neck, breathing him in. She had never felt like this before.

And she never would again.

Carlos chuckled, "it's the accent, foxy ladies just _love_ the accent – you just had to battle your way through a shit-load of zombies, blow up a freakin' mutant stalker and survive a bomb blast to realise it."

Jill smiled against his skin, saying nothing. They stood like that for what seemed an age, until a sudden gust of air alerted them to the helicopter engines starting up again. Time had run out on them.

They parted slowly, trying to linger for just a little longer in each other's arms, but soon the distance that had once been between them returned. Their moment was over. They were soldiers once again.

"I trust Barry's filled you in with details on how to contact us with any information that you manage to recover?"

"He has."

"Good. Well then…" a slight hesitation, "good luck, Corporal Oliveira."

The mercenary made a salute, his expression focused, betraying no emotion, "yes ma'am!"

The ex-S.T.A.R.S. officer turned on her heel, and moved towards her transportation, but not before stopping and turning to look at him one more time. "Goodbye, Carlos."

One final flicker of that signature smirk, "adios, chica."

And with that, they turned away from one another and parted ways. They never looked back. But the hope that they'd found together, would burn forever. It didn't matter if their paths would never cross again, they had hope – and in the end, that was all that mattered.

_Because of you, I'm still alive…_


End file.
